


The Way the World Ends

by GlitterAndDoom



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-30
Updated: 2010-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-14 05:42:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/145989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterAndDoom/pseuds/GlitterAndDoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm glad it's you, though. You're not my first choice, but..." Tommy looked down and trailed off into silence, and they held each other, waiting, neither of them sure of what else to say. The world had never ended before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way the World Ends

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** The Way the World Ends  
>  **Author:** WD  
>  **Pairing:** Adam Lambert/Tommy Joe Ratliff  
>  **Summary:** "I'm glad it's you, though. You're not my first choice, but..." Tommy looked down and trailed off into silence, and they held each other, waiting, neither of them sure of what else to say. The world had never ended before.  
>  **Warnings:** CHARACTER DEATH, angst  
>  **Author's Notes:** Title from T. S. Eliot's "The Hollow Men," of course.  
>  **Disclaimer:** I own nothing, and this stuff is all lies.

"You're not gonna be offended if I say I wanna be somewhere else right now, are you?"

Adam paused, stilling the hand entwined in Tommy's hair. "Of course not." He kissed Tommy on the head. "I don't wanna be here, either." He wanted to be home, with his family and his friends and a few bottles of hard liquor, not trapped in a sterile five star hotel room with just one of the ones who held his heart in their hands, fucked out but way too damn sober for this.

"I miss my mom." Tommy buried his face against Adam's chest, and he could feel the wet tears as they fell silently from Tommy's eyes. "I miss everyone. I tried to call, say goodbye, but—"

"I know." Adam pulled Tommy closer as he cried, even though if he held him any tighter, they'd both probably break. Not that it mattered anymore. The way the world ends and all that. "I thought we'd at least get to talk to the people downstairs, but—" But there were armed guards everywhere, keeping everyone where they were as the minutes ticked down, because God forbid there be chaos before they all died.

He sighed. He wasn't bitter anymore, not really. Not with the minutes withering away to nothing with each passing second and fuck all he could do about it. The end was coming, settled like the dull, cold ache of sharp-toothed lead gnawing at his guts. Fear. Except it wasn't fear, not really, but a twisted bastard child of panic and calm and rage that he didn't have the words to describe. They—whoever the fuck They were—knew it was all coming to an end, that every single person in the world was going to _die_ , and yet, nothing. No explanation, no solution, just…finality. The unshakable certainty that everything was going to end, and no power on earth could stop it.

"I'm glad it's you, though," Tommy said, when his body stopped shaking from the sobs. He looked up at Adam with conviction in his red-stained, tear-burned eyes. "You're not my first choice, but..." He looked down and trailed off into silence, and they held each other, waiting, neither of them sure of what else to say. The world had never ended before. Adam went back to combing his fingers through Tommy's hair, while Tommy stroked his hand down Adam's chest and belly, his other hand clutching Adam's hip, tight enough to hurt. Pain was okay, though. Any sensation was a comfort, from the suffocating weight of the blankets upon overheated bare skin to the harsh hunger pangs in his long-empty stomach to the soothing brush of skin caressing skin. Feeling meant everything was still real. Feeling meant they were still alive.

"I love you," Tommy said, suddenly, but he didn't stop following the lines of Adam's body with his hand. "I've never been, like, _in love_ with you or anything, but—you're the greatest thing that ever happened to me, and I just—" And then he slid up, and he pressed his lips against Adam's. "Thank you. For everything. You turned my life completely upside down, and I've loved every fucking second of it. Even this."

"Oh, Tommy." The dam broke. Adam's throat squeezed tight, and his own tears began to fall, hot and wet down his cheeks. "I love you so much, you have no idea," he whispered, barely able to speak. He'd never been in love with Tommy, either, but he'd felt _closer_ to him than to nearly everyone else. Like their lives were deeply intertwined. "I'm so glad I picked you." He'd always believed in fate and destiny, and this felt like destiny, two close friends and almost lovers lying on a bed together as everything came to a close. "I just wish we had more time."

"Yeah, really." Tommy laughed softly. "We would've been awesome."

"We would." It had never been right, and now, it would never be right. Adam inhaled a shaky breath, and he reached up and wiped his eyes, then wrinkled his nose at the smudges of dark black on his hands. So much for going out glam. "I bet I look like hell right now."

Tommy shook his head. "Nah. You've always been beautiful. You're kind of stupidly perfect, you know? I've been kind of expecting some big, bright light to, like, shine down overhead and take you up in the mothership or some shit any second now, take you back home or whatever."

Adam laughed, and Tommy grinned. "I'd take you with me." He shook his head. "I'm just as human as everyone else."

"Damn. There goes my chance to tell Satan I got fucked by an alien when I get to Hell." Their smiles faded away, and Tommy gave him a pensive look. "Do you believe in God or anything now? I've always heard that, like, there's no atheists in a foxhole or whatever, but...I don't believe anything different. I think I believe even less now, if that makes sense."

"I don't know." Adam sighed. "I haven't really been thinking about that." It was too much to think about. If there was something else out there, after this, he wanted to remember the feeling of hair between his fingers, the warmth of a loving body pressed against his own, the fading blissed-out afterglow of one last good fuck. The taste of the lips he leaned up to claim in another good kiss, the ones that tasted of Tommy and himself and nothing more. And even if he didn't remember, even if there was nothing after this, he wanted and wanted and wanted..."Let's just—"

Quietly, everything stopped.


End file.
